Robert H. Carlson's Biology is Technology is an intriguing and provocative book that elates as much as it infuriates. A straightforward interpretation of the title would suggest that Carlson is offering a review of the economic consequences of technological applications of recent biological findings. While Carlson certainly provides evidence and argument sufficient for such a thesis, his book would be a serious disappointment if that were all he was doing. Such a thesis is a near truism to any educated layperson who has been following the news. Fortunately, Carlson aims to do much more than provide a general review. A different interpretation of the title suggests that Carlson makes a far more daring claim about the nature of biology, technology, and the future of the human condition.

The book's opening paragraph is as informative as its title. Carlson writes that "organisms have made use of each other in sophisticated ways…," that the evolutionary ancestors of all life on Earth have "co-opted free-living organisms that became the subcellular components now called chloroplasts and mitochondria" responsible for energy production in the cells of plants and animals (p. 1). With words like sophisticated and co-opted, Carlson frames his argument as something more than an overview of the economic consequences of biotechnology. Indeed as the opening paragraph and other all-too-brief statements throughout the text suggest, biology and technology have been around long before there were humans (see pp. 10--13, 15, 23, 120--122, 175). Such a claim, in which single-celled organisms are attributed a degree of agency sufficient for techno-scientific practice, is bound to provoke a wide variety of people interested in science, technology and the human condition, especially since Carlson only asserts this position without providing any warrant for it. As often as Carlson asserts something right or insightful regarding his use of biology-as-technology (e.g., the dual-use of bio-technology for good or ill) he asserts something that seems very much at odds with his overall argument (e.g., that there is a real difference between science, which is pure, and technology, which is applied (see pp. 21--22), thus begging the question of whether biology is a science or not).

Carlson does his argument a disservice in never giving clear working definitions of central concepts like science, engineering, biology, or technology. This is unfortunate given the title of the first chapter -- "What is Biology?" -- and the continual emphasis on the clarifying and predictive power of quantitative methods over the qualitative. For all of Carlson's talk about the value of design principles one would hope that a general rule would be "Define (important) terms clearly and effectively." Having failed to do so, we have on one page, such terms employed in recognizable ways, as activities performed by persons, i.e. by scientists, engineers, etc. Yet soon after such familiar use, these concepts are employed as though no persons were involved -- much in the spirit of evolutionary biologists who talk metaphorically of Mother Nature in order to elucidate the workings of natural selection. Carlson's argument, however, seems to go beyond the metaphor. If it was not intended to, then the book suddenly becomes far less interesting, especially given the breadth of information Carlson presents and his stated desire to provoke thought about the implications of the coming bioeconomy for the human condition. In blurring or confusing the distinction between biology and technology without ever being clear about what is being blurred or confused, Carlson hints at how this perspective forces us to reconsider central elements of our self-conception.

Even though there is a lack of coherence among his central conceptual tools, Carlson nevertheless employs them to introduce many recent events and developments in our understanding of biology (i.e., the organic parts of the world; what biologists study) and our technological use of biology (i.e., the human study of life as employed for specific human purposes beyond understanding). Carlson also provides a useful framework for thinking about the changes that our understanding is currently undergoing. The first half of the book is largely focused on developing this framework based on the history of aviation. Carlson argues that aeronautical engineering only took flight when a change in perspective allowed engineers not only to tell a story about flying but to provide a mathematical model based on practical principles making experimental testing possible. This history of aviation serves as a useful background for understanding the developments in molecular biology, especially as we are now on the cusp of synthesizing living organisms not simply from scratch but without, Carlson argues, the massive infrastructure of big corporations.

Carlson foresees a future not far from the present in which amateur biotech engineers are working away busily in their garages making contributions just as significant as those of their academic and corporate counterparts. Such a future, however, faces several obstacles, but as Carlson shows there are good reasons for optimism. The second half of the book reviews both the hurdles and the hopes. Hope is illustrated through a history of biotech engineering competitions among student teams. The greatest hurdle is safety and security. Carlson's overall response to this concern revolves around the efficacy of government regulation. Carlson argues strongly against any regulation that restricts technology as he finds history to show that regulation is counterproductive. This libertarian bent continues through his discussion of patents and open source approaches to increasing innovation. Unrestrained innovation, Carlson believes, will develop biological sensors and solutions to any biological threats.

I found myself elated with the progress people are making in understanding not only how nature works but also in how to manage or manipulate nature to better suit our purposes. I also found myself frustrated with Carlson's emphatic gene-centrism, and his anti-regulation-ism. Biology entails more than gene manipulation, so more needs to be said about other sub-fields, like ecology. As for the anti-regulation, a case can easily be made for intelligent regulation. In many cases (e.g. finance), de-regulation hasn't been all that beneficial. From Carlson's perspective, regulation could be viewed as a homeostasis designed to control growth such that one aspect of the system doesn't increase its activity at the expense of the rest of the system. If we're to take Carlson's main argument seriously, we need a discussion of "cancerous" technologies, viz., of what to do when our self-regulatory immune responses fail. That said, Carlson's book serves as a platform for such discussion.

Carlson is clearly an authority in these matters. Much of what he argues will be of interest to historians, lawyers, engineers, philosophers, and sociologists. Anyone who wishes to participate in the debates to come over the consequences of bio-technology should read this book, if only to see the landscape from an established vantage point.

Tibor Solymosi is a PhD candidate in the philosophy department at Southern Illinois University, Carbondale. His research focuses on the intersection of science, technology, and our self-conception. Email: [email protected]

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